What Darkness Remains
by sham17
Summary: A year and a half after the end of the Second Wizarding War, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and their friends all must face the presence of the dark magic remaining around them, all while coping with the effects the war had on them. Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just the first chapter in a much longer story I have planned out. Lots of other characters will be involved, and places will be explored that were never really touched on by JK. As I said, this is just the opener, and there's much more to come. On a side note, Harry will NOT be with Cho for this story. Her presence will only be in this chapter and the next, so don't worry, Ginny's on her way.**

The world was bleak. London was frozen over as winter plagued the dark streets. Icy wind terrorized the tattered brick streets and stuck to windows of solemn buildings. Snow came in sheets and it seemed as though the sun struggled to rise every morning. The people were a direct representation of the city. They passed by quickly and quietly like a whisper. Bundled up in dark heavy clothes trying desperately to protect themselves against the relentless freeze. It was cold, but warmth had not been forgotten. A lonely bar on a quiet street refused to forget warmth. Windows and heavy door blocked out the hellish weather. It was cozy inside . Quiet music played. A fire made shadows dance on the hardwood floors. A low murmur of conversation brought the inexplicable comfort of human relation. It was warm. It was beautiful.

The bar was the only establishment still open in the frozen town. While others had shut their doors at the icy winds, knowing that even the most daring of travelers would not leave their homes, the cozy bar stayed open, just in case any patron decided to wander in. The crowd was sparse, however. One man sat alone at a corner table, several empty glasses in front of him and an expression telling of a hard day. A group of several women sat in a booth on the other wall of the bar, all visibly annoyed by their surroundings yet unwilling to face the conditions outside. A single bartender stood at his station.

The warm atmosphere of the bar was sliced when the heavy wooden door flew open. A small flurry of snow dusted the floor as a howling of wind was heard, and two men walked through the door. The condition of the world outside was evident by the pile of snow easily seen in the black hair of one of the men. As the man closed the door behind him, he shook his hair out, and a faint lightning scar could be seen.

While this man took his jacket off and began to walk towards the bar seating, his companion, a taller, redheaded man, wiped the snow off his own hair and took off his jacket and scarf, all while muttering an exasperated "bloody hell". The tall, freckled, red-haired boy walked and sat down on a stool next to the dark-hair man. The latter removed glasses from his face, glasses that were peculiarly round and somewhat childlike, wiped them of the fog they had created, and placed them back on his face, shielding bright green eyes.

The group of women, who had turned around and watched the entrance of these two young men, were now speaking in rushed, quiet tones. The tired man in the corner had barely glanced up at the entrance of the patrons, but he could not help but hear some of the whispers of the women at the booth.

"A lightning scar? You're sure?"

"..and with the redhead boy! Did you see all his freckles?"

"It has to be…"

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

At the mention of the the name, the women all once again craned their necks to look at the black haired boy. He faced away from them in silence, towards the bartender and the stone wall behind him. The ginger man next to him, however, ordered two drinks. The outside world was no longer visible from the windows in the bar. All that was able to be seen was the darkness of a winter night and the occasional snow flurry. The bartender placed two glasses of firewhisky in front of the the men.

"The training hours are rubbish. How do they expect us to do our jobs right if we're barely getting sleep every night!"

The red-haired boy took a long swig of his drink and placed the glass back on the table. His dark-haired friend smiled slightly, took a sip of his own drink, and replied,

"At least we're getting paid for it now. We used to do this for free."

A year and a half ago, a 17 year old Harry Potter had faced a battle alongside his classmates on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that put the reign of Voldemort to a final end. The story was now legend, and although he no longer attended his beloved school, adult wizards and students alike were captivated by his story.

While the women in the booth still occasionally flitted their eyes to the boys at the bar, they had, for the most part, gone back to their own business. The redheaded boy pulled up his sleeve to check his watch, which was worn, but still in working condition. He muttered to himself,

"Where is she? Said she'd be here by now…", and then, glancing at his friend beside him,

"You don't think she got stuck in the weather, do you? It's bloody freezing out there and she's all by herself…"

"Mate, I think she's proven by now that she can take care of herself."

Just as these words left Harry's mouth, the heavy wooden bar door swung open again, redusting the floor with snow. This time, however, a girl walked in, brown curly hair viewable from underneath a hat that did not do a very good job of shielding her head from the flurries outside. As she removed her hat she left a small trail behind her, and every bounce of her curls let out a new mini snowstorm.

"Could you have chosen a worse night to go out! I mean really!"

She chose a bar stool next to Ron and sat down exasperatedly.

"I can't believe I walked through that mess for you two...couldn't have just waited to meet in the morning…"

Her ranting, however, was interrupted by a kiss on the cheek by the readheaded boy. Before she could speak again, he told her he missed her, and Hermione was unable and unwilling to continue her chiding. Harry continued to sip on his firewhisky as Ron began talking to his girlfriend.

"Auror training is just mad, Hermione. They have us staying all night long reading reports and studying dark wizards, as if me and Harry don't have enough information on THAT for a lifetime, right Harry?"

Harry nodded, gave a small smile, and made a sound of agreement. Ron immediately returned their attention to his girlfriend, but Hermione's eyes lingered on Harry for a second longer, until Ron spoke to her again.

"It almost makes me want to go back to bloody school. I would rather write all the potions papers in the world than read another thousand year old report about some git that blew up some rocks with dark magic."

"Speaking as the only one of us who is still writing all dozens of school papers, you may want to watch what you wish for, Ronald. Being 2 years older than every other student and being gawked at every time I answer a question isn't exactly a dream..."

"Oy! I didn't tell you to go back to school after the war, you're the one who chose to finish seventh year even though you could've gotten any bloody job you asked for in the Ministry!"

"Education is important, Ron! How could I be trusted to run any Ministry going-on without finishing…"

As the two of them bickered on, the man with the glasses seemed to lose himself in thought, and it was clear that if not interrupted, he could do this for hours. The glazed over look on his face gave his features a stillness like glass, until it was shattered by his friend's voice.

"Oy! What're the chances!"

Once again the other patrons of the bar were drawn to the happenings of those near the door. However this time the attention of the women dwindled quickly, as the two women who entered the bar seemed nothing out of the ordinary; a tall blonde girl and a very pretty girl with long dark hair. They absentmindedly spoke to each other as they walked further into the bar, and their quiet conversing was only interrupted by a sudden hug the dark haired girl received from Hermione and the surprised yet excited greeting from the ginger man.

Harry reacted less readily, and when he turned around to see who his friends found so must pleasure in seeing, he too was taken aback by the slim chances of this run in. His apprehension grew the more he came to terms with the presence of the girl speaking to his best friends. If possible he felt an even greater wish to be in solitude than before she had arrived. He stayed seated on his barstool as his friends walked back over to their seat, and the dark haired girl followed. He only overheadrd snippets of their conversation, and through these pieces he heard the girl's name was Anna.

"Hello, Cho," Harry said politely, and as Hermione and Ron took their previous seats he faked a greeting smile in the direction of Anna. Cho sat on the stool next to Harry, and her cheeks, bright red from either the winter weather or from being slightly flustered from running into all her old friends, held a smile as she said hello back. The friend she had arrived with took the stool next to her.

The group sat and reminisced for quite some time. Hermione discussed how her final year at Hogwarts was going, Ron readily offered information about his and Harry's time at the Ministry so far, or, as much information as he could get out before Hermione would stop him with,

"Ronald! I'm sure you aren't supposed to be discussing matters like that…"

Cho told the group how after the war she spent time traveling and was now back in London to try and find a job. Enough time was spent at the bar that several empty glasses of fire whisky could be seen per person, and the group of gossipy women had gathered themselves and their bravery and left the establishment. As they opened the door to leave, the flurries outside were noticeable smaller. At the sight of this, and the obvious way Cho had been leaning into Harry all night, the Anna stood up to go home. She and Cho hugged and the rest said a polite goodbye, and she, too, was gone into the London night.

As the Hermione and Ron spoke to each other, Cho took this opportunity to lean over to Harry and as him something that may not had been thought about had they not spent the night drinking.

"Would you want to come back to my flat with me? It's dark out and we haven't spoken in so long, I'd love to catch up."

At this moment Harry did realize that he spent the majority of the night in silence. He immediately felt a pang of guilt, as she had chosen to sit next to him and he had been in his own world the entire time. This, combined with his own curiosity for what she had been up to since their last seeing of each other almost 2 years ago, and the sweet look on her face, Harry agreed.

The two of them stood up and gathered their coats and scarves. Hermione looked at them with a quizzical look on her face, while Ron smiled.

"We're, er, going to go back to Cho's. Ron, I'll be home later."

"Have fun, mate", Ron replied smugly.

Harry and Cho headed towards the door, and as he opened it the chill outside rushed inwards. The two of them then walked out, leaving the warmth of the bar behind.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey from the bar to the building of Cho's flat was somewhat of a blur. Whether this blur was because of the once again increasing snow flurries or the lingering effect of his drinking at the bar, Harry followed the dark haired girl down the cold street and to a nondescript brick building.

She unlocked the door and after allowing him inside and out of the chilly hallway, Harry could not help but notice that the interior of Cho's flat could not be more different from the bar, or from his own flat, for that matter. The place was delicate and neat, much like Cho herself. The walls were a pale blue color and Harry could not help but wonder if this color had been influenced by her past house at Hogwarts. Cho removed her coat and tossed it over the back of her couch, then made her way to the kitchen across the room. Harry stood somewhat uncomfortably in the entranceway of her home, not quite sure what exactly made him decide to come home with this girl. His feelings for Cho were once so strong, if he had told himself 4 years ago that he would be standing in her flat on a winters night, he surely would have hit his future self and thought he was a complete lying git.

Cho wandered back into the sitting room a few minutes later with two glasses of water, setting them down on a small coffee table and setting herself down on the couch next to it. Even in her slight drunkenness she had a delicate way about her, and Harry could not help but remember all the causes of his past fondness for her.

She glanced over at him from the couch, and Harry realized that he still had not moved from his place near the door. He removed his coat and placed it next to Cho's on the back of the couch, and she beckoned him towards where she was sitting. Harry made his way to the couch, and though he felt a small pull of apprehension inside him, he continued onward in the situation he had allowed himself to become a part of. He took his place on the other cushion of the loveseat, so there were several inches between his and Cho's bodies. She looked over at him and smiled.

"Harry, would you mind handing me one of those glasses?"

Harry's eyes darted from her to the water glasses on the coffee table and back to her. He leaned forward in his seat, grabbing a glass and bringing it back, then placing it in her hand. Cho put the glass to her lips and took a sip. She looked over at Harry again, who was still perched somewhat unsurely on the sofa.

"You can have the other one, you know".

"Oh, er, right, thanks." Harry reached out and grabbed the other glass from the table. As every minute passed he became more unsure of the position he was now in. The effects of the firewhisky had began to wear off quite some time ago, and he was certain that Cho was in a much different state of mind than him. She relaxed on the couch, leaning back, occasionally closing her eyes for a moment, occasionally sipping on her water, and more frequently looking at Harry. He felt a sort of expectation from her, and the situation itself seemed to call for some sort of action. At the precise moment he began to have this thought, Cho sat up and leaned forward to speak to him.

"Harry, do you remember how we were sixth year? I really did like you, but after Cedric and everything…I was just so hurt and confused and you had so much going on on your own, I can't help but feel like…we never got a real chance, you know? There were so many other things in the way we didn't even get an honest try."

Harry noticed the slight sparkle of tears in her eyes, and he was unable to tell if this emotion was brought on by her choice of drink for the night, or if she had really been torn up about this for all these years. Either way, Harry felt completely unsure of what to say to her. He could agree with the fact that life had gotten in the way of them, had influenced their actions and emotions in a way that tore them apart. Harry could not help but feel a bit of confusion on what to do — he had had such strong feelings for Cho during his earlier years at Hogwarts, and now here he was, on her loveseat, in her flat, discussing their past relationship. Cho's eyes moved to his again, and he realized he should at least try to answer her.

"Well, er, yes I suppose you're right. But you know just…the war and all…I had a lot going on. So did you."

It seemed to him that Cho had been looking at his lips directly all while he was speaking. She leaned forward even farther as he finished his thought, and in a hushed tone as if to keep a secret, she said,

"Well, I don't have much going on now, and it doesn't seem like you do, either".

She smiled slightly, and this time, Cho moved her entire body over a few inches towards Harry's half of the loveseat. The tight pull of apprehension continued to grow in his chest, but he not yet had a reason to act on it. They were just talking, old friends, speaking of past times.

Cho was now much closer to Harry on the sofa and he could smell the clean, sweet smell of her shampoo. She leaned forward once again in the silence and asked him to kiss her.

A small piece of Harry's mind glimmered with excitement — Cho was very beautiful after all, and it's not every day a girl went this far out of her way to kiss him. However, the sinking feeling of uncertainty he felt was more influential than the slight flattery. Cho seemed to disregard Harry's silence, as she continued to lean forward, her face approaching his slowly. She was a foot away, then 10 inches, 8, 7, until she began to close her eyes and close the rest of the space between them. Out of habit Harry's eyes began to close as well, but once they closed all he could imagine was long red hair and a Weasley he hadn't spoken to for months. He pulled backwards immediately and stood up.

"I'm er, I'm sorry. I can't." Harry shook his head and looked downwards. Cho sat in stunned silence, and he could not tell if she was about to cry or yell. He was almost certain he'd never seen her seem so shaken.

"Is something wrong, Harry? Did I…"

"No, I just, er, I just…can't. I'm sorry. I…I should go. Yeah". He looked downwards once more and made his way around the couch, retrieving his coat and putting it on. Cho had turned around on the couch, still starting at him.

"So, er, goodbye, then. Sorry. See you." Harry hastily made his way out the door before she had a chance to say anything, or cast a spell at him. As Harry walked quickly down the hall a million thoughts raced through his mind. The feelings of shock and slight flattery of Cho's advancements were still fresh in his mind, but even more present was the image he had of Ginny. A small piece of him had been trying to get over her, for her own good, and perhaps his as well. But this proved itself not as easy as he had hoped. As much as he loved living with Ron, his freckled face and bright red hair couldn't help but remind him of the girl that Harry had not been able to keep, even after everything that had happened. It had been months since he and Ginny had spoken, but this was the first occurrence in quite some time that had made him feel so affected by her lack of presence.

As he walked out the door of Cho's building, he allowed himself a moment to stop and compose himself. The snow drifted down around him and the sky was still dark, the stars shining and the moon a sliver between the trees. He closed his eyes again and as he felt the cold wind brush him, he once again imagined her face, her long red hair, her smile. Harry then turned and began to walk down the street.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky was still dark as Harry approached the door to the building containing his flat. It had been over an hour since he had left Cho's and the falling snow had found it's way into every fold of his jacket and throughout his hair. The old stone building seemed to should have felt inviting, a welcoming home from the bitter cold outside, but instead Harry could not help but wish he had a bit longer to himself. He had chosen to walk home, rather than apparate, in order to have some time to think about what had just happened at Cho's. Strolling through the dark London streets always seemed to soothe him, and that coupled with the silence of the snow and the briskness of the wind helped Harry to collect his thoughts as he made his way home.

Harry made his way up the steps to the door and with a quietly whispered "Alohomora," he made his way into the house. The lights in the kitchen and hallway were dark, and Harry could only assume Ron had gone to bed. As he made his way farther into the flat, Harry couldn't help but hear some noise coming from the living room. He slowly continued forward, wondering why Ron would still be up so late. As he began to enter the living room itself, he was able to make out a few words, spoken in a low, somewhat fabricated deep voice.

"Now, Miss Granger, have you really forgotten your homework again?"

Harry stopped in his place. He wasn't quite sure what he was hearing, and did not know whether he should continue into the room. He then heard another voice, this one higher than its usual tone.

"Oh I'm soooo sorry Professor! I've been so bad!"

Harry stopped in his tracks, completely horrified about what he had just walked into. It was then that his two best friends popped up from the couch, horrified expressions on their faces. Hermione let out a small scream and darted out of the room to a nearby bedroom. Ron stared at Harry from the couch, and yelled out an exasperated "Oy!" as he made himself decent. Harry took the final steps into the living room, making his way around to the couch. During his walk he heard Ron grumbling beneath his breath, but as angry as he might have been, his face was still as red as his hair from embarrassment.

Harry sat down on the couch and Ron glanced over at him. They both sat in silence for a moment before Harry broke the silence.

'What the hell was that?"

Ron sheepishly looked down again, glanced in the direction that Hermione had ran, and then looked back towards Harry before speaking.

"I don't know, mate...she likes it."

Harry shook his head slightly, whispering "bloody hell" under his breath. Before he could say anything else, however, he saw Ron look towards him with a smirk on his face and say,

"You should see when I give her detention."

At this comment both boys bursted out into laughter. They tried to contain themselves when they heard footsteps coming from the other side of the house, but were unable to stop by the time Hermione made her way around the corner of the hallway. She leaned against the wall and let her eyes drift to the other side of the room as she said with clear annoyance,

"I thought you weren't going to be home until later, Harry!"

The boys had finally stopped laughing, and Ron looked at Harry and asked the same question.

"Yeah, mate, I – er, we – figured you'd be at Cho's for a bit".

"Yeah well I...y'know..."

Harry was not able to come up with a plausible reason for his early arrival home before Hermione said the exact thing he dreaded she would realize.

"It was Ginny, wasn't it."

Harry leaned back on the couch and averted his eyes from his two friends. He heard Hermione's footsteps once again and when he looked up, she was sitting on the couch next to Ron.

"Hermione, really, it's fine..."

But before he could finish his defense she was already on him with hers.

"Harry, you can't keep avoiding this and pretending there isn't a problem. You and Ginny never worked things out after the war and now you're stuck in this state and you know all you have to do is talk to her! Tell him, Ronald!"

"Well, I don't know Hermione, I don't really think he did anything wrong...I don't see what he's supposed to do, really."

Harry then turned to Hermione and finally spoke his mind.

"Hermione, she was the one who stopped talking to me! I don't know what else I was supposed to do, I tried and she never came around and then I was leaving and she never said a word! I mean bloody hell, what did she want me to do! What do you want me to do?!"

Hermione just shook her head and let out a sigh.

"You boys...have no idea. You have no clue! Do you even remember how things were right after the war with you two? How she felt after the funeral?"

At this question, Harry could not help but think back to the weeks immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts. The effort to regroup after the final battle had left everyone exhausted, physically and emotionally. While many wizards and witches spent their time rebuilding Hogwarts itself, many others had to take time to mourn the losses of their close friends and family. Harry remembered finding Ginny after he defeated Voldemort and holding her for what seemed like hours. She and the rest of the Weasley's were mourning Fred, and all he could do was try and be there for her. The Weasley's and Harry took Fred's body back to the Burrow and were arranging his funeral, but as much as Harry tried, he could not escape the reporters, fans, and other side effects of having just defeated the darkest wizard in history. He remembered how Ginny had shut down, barely speaking to anyone including her family. He would try to speak to her as much as possible, try to get her to tell him what she was thinking, but it was always in vain. She was completely unavailable to him, and it broke his heart not knowing what to do for her.

He knew, of course, that her reaction was normal. She was always very close to Fred and George, and now she had lost one physically, and the other emotionally. George was even more absent than her, almost impossible to find on most days. Harry continued pleading to her, asking her to please talk to him, tell him anything he could do, but it was useless. As Fred's funeral day approached, Ginny only became more unreachable.

The day of Fred's funeral was bright and sunny. The weather, however, was a direct misrepresentation of the feelings of his friends and family in attendance. Aside from close relatives, however, hundreds of other wizards and witches arrived to pay their respects to the fallen Weasley twin. Harry remembered feeling overwhelmed by the amount of people who came, but only wished to be around the Weasleys and Hermione. He could not keep track of Ginny, however, and he was frustrated because he knew she needed someone and she would not let him in. As he walked around the landscape of the Burrow, searching for her long red hair, Harry could not help but think about the thing he had asked Ginny earlier, the thing he still did not have an answer for.

3 days earlier, Harry had received a letter, an invitation to begin auror training in the coming week. Ron had also received this letter, and his family was extremely proud and supportive of him, even through the grief they were facing at losing one of their other sons. Harry was excited as well, however he felt strong apprehension at leaving Ginny behind. Even though she had been distant, he couldn't imagine moving away from her at this time. He knew they had to talk, but there was never a time. Finally, on the morning of Fred's funeral, Harry just blurted out the news to her. She smiled slightly and looked him in the eyes.

"That's great, Harry, really."

"Ginny, just come with me, we can move to London and I'm sure the Ministry would love to have you."

"Harry...I don't know..."

"Just...think about it, okay?"

He had not seen her the rest of the day. Harry wandered, searching for her everywhere, but she was impossible to find. Harry couldn't help but feel somewhat frustrated – he had to leave the next day to begin training, and he knew she was grieving, but she couldn't do just this to him. He had to take the job, it's what he always wanted, but he could not imagine being there without her.

After some time, Harry's search slowed. He found himself lingering in the crowds, hoping maybe he would see her walking by. As his patience waned and his frustration grew, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around quickly, and he found himself staring at her large brown eyes. Harry was surprised – this was the first time she had sought conversation with him in weeks. He looked at her, silently waited for what she had to say.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I've been thinking about what you told me and I really think we should talk..."

But before she could finish her thought, Harry heard a faint "Harry Potter?" from behind him, and before he knew it, he was surrounded by 15 Hogwarts-aged girls. They immediately began fawning over him, asking for autographs, asking quickly-said questions about the battle, about Hermione and Ron, about his whole life. Harry tried to get them to stop, to tell them to leave, but when he glanced over his shoulder, all he saw was Ginny's long red hair swaying as she walked in the other direction.

After that, she didn't speak to him again. Harry spent the rest of the night trying to find her, even more urgent than before. He was infuriated, but not at her, at himself, at the girls who had interrupted them. For the first time Ginny had wanted to talk, to tell him what was going on in her head, to discuss moving to London, and she got shut out. He turned away to deal with little obsessed girls instead of ignoring them to listen to her. Now she would never talk to him again, he was sure of it. She tried, and she was shut away, and now she would never come back to him.

The next morning, Harry and Ron prepared to leave for London. The rest of the Weasleys gathered in the sitting room to send them off, Mrs. Weasley shed tears as she sent two of her boys off to be on their own. As happy as Harry was, he could not help but notice Ginny's absence. Again, he felt frustrated. How could she keep hiding away from him? And at the least, she could have come said goodbye to her brother. However, she did not make an appearance, and as the clock struck 10:00 am, he and Ron apparated into London.

All of this ran through Harry's head as Hermione lectured him. Of course he remembered, but what was he supposed to do?

"Hermione, I tried, she wouldn't talk to me."

"She thought she was a burden to you! The way you approached her, it seemed you were just angry at her!"

"Hermione, Harry really did try, I saw him looking for her..."

"Ronald! She is your sister! Don't sit here and make her out to be a lunatic. She felt alone and needed to talk, and she would have if you went to her like you cared, I didn't put a spell on her to talk to me! I just made sure she knew I cared about her!"

Harry's anger was quickly rising. Of course he cared about Ginny! All the did for weeks was try and talk to her, what else could he have done? What was Hermione even talking about, how could Ginny have thought he was angry at her?

Hermione, shaking her head, stood up and walked out of the room. Again it was only Harry and Ron on the couch, sitting in a silence thick with thoughts. As Harry glanced over at his friend, he nodded, walked to the refrigerator, grabbed 2 beers, and headed towards the staircase leading to the roof.

Harry followed Ron up several flights of industrial stairs, until they made their way through a heavy metal door and found themselves on the roof of their building. The dark and bitter cold night was inviting now, and he took a seat next to a pit as Ron whispered "Incendio" and a small fire began to burn. Ron sat down next to him, and they sat in silence for some time, before Harry broke the silence.

"I didn't know what to do, mate."

"Yeah yeah, I know. Hermione just gets all that girl stuff. I didn't think you were being a git or anything. I don't blame you for what happened."

Once again there was silence as they both sipped on their drinks. Flurries drifted down around them, much lighter than the ones that had fell on Harry during his walk home hours earlier.

"I care about her, I do."

"I know, mate. It'll work out. Just listen to Hermione, she understand this stuff..."

"...and we obviously do not."

They both laughed and continued to drink, and Harry allowed his mind to rest and enjoy the warmth of the fire and the lights of the city.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! Getting good feedback is so amazing and encouraging, I can't wait to keep sharing this story with you all.**

Winter afternoons in London are something of a balancing act. On one hand the cold rushes through narrow streets making any time outside a bleak affair. Outstandingly small amounts of sleet suggest that it's winter, but it's hard to be sure. Looming stone buildings intimidate one another and act as walls to the twisted pathways. But the other side of things adds a quiet beauty to it all. Cars float up and down the cobble stone and groups of people huddle together as they brave the sidewalks. An impossible to understand heat is produced by the cities population, and it slowly flows from one end to the other. The ordeal is a testament to the ongoing battle between the elements and the unexplainable warmth of humans. Winters simply cannot be endured without someone at your side.

Two figures walked down the slushy sidewalks wiping sleep from their eyes. It was afternoon and they had been working all day, but Harry and Ron had begun the day exhausted after staying on their apartment's rooftop until the late hours of the night. They walked in comfortable silence marching on towards a sandwich shop a few blocks away. They walked without thinking, their path memorized from countless lunch breaks spent there. This routine walk, however, was interrupted when they began to walk past a small alleyway between two buildings.

"H...Harry? Harry Potter? Is that you?"

Harry and Ron stopped in their place. They both peered into the alleyway, hands on their wands in their pockets just in case. However, their grips on their wands weakened when the man moved out of the shadows enough to see his features.

"Stan Shunpike? What're you doing down there?"

Ron's question seemed to somewhat embarrass Stan. His face moved back into shadow for a moment, but then he turned back around to answer.

"I, er, don't know, really. I don't know anything. These past months, years, I...I don't remember any of it. That curse, whatever those dark magic gits use..."

Stan's sentence trailed off as he began to rummage in his coat pockets. Finally he pulled out a cigarette and the end began to burn as he put the other end to his pale lips.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to be heading to the post office."

Stan turned about and began to walk down the shadowed alley. Harry and Ron had observed this all in silence, and now that Stan was gone, they both looked at each other. They turned and began to walk down the street once more.

"You think he meant the Imperius curse? I mean, what else could he mean, really," Ron thought out loud to Harry. He nodded in agreement, still somewhat confused by the chance of the encounter.

"So you reckon all the spells broke after you killed Voldemort?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Bloody hell...so many people, just waking up at once. Don't even know what they might've done."

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, thinking the same things his friend was, but not willing to ask the questions. Ron was more willing, however, and he spent the rest of their lunch break wondering out loud.

"How long do you think Stan could've been under? The whole war?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"And how many people did they get? A hundred? A thousand? It's mad, that's what it is."

"Yeah, mate."

"Do you reckon any of the people coming forward about it are lying? Trying to cover their arses for the things they did?"

This conversation continued all the way to the restaurant and throughout the duration of their meal. Ron kept posing questions, Harry answering shortly. It wasn't as though Harry was disinterested, he too had a million thoughts going through his head. After they finished their sandwiches and Ron felt himself satisfied with the discussion of the curse subject, they made their way out of the shop. They opened the door to leave and were met with a brisk push of wind and the noise of thousands of other people going about their business.

Harry and Ron spent the next few moments walking in silence. They were headed back to the Ministry, retracing their steps from where they just came. For the second time, they passed a small building with clean grey bricks and large display windows. The lights in the displays allowed brilliant color to reflect off of the shining rings and other jewelry inside. Harry walked with intent to continue on, but this time, Ron slowed his pace and then all together stopped in front of this storefront. Harry stopped a few steps in front of him, but doubled back to see what his friend was interested in. He could see the serious look on Ron's face reflected in the window as he gazed at a small silver band with a glittering stone.

Harry knew from Ron's expression that the subject he was about to breach was an important one. After the previous nights events, however, Harry felt especially inclined to try and help his best friend. It was rare that the two would find themselves facing a romantic situation that they could not got to Hermione for advice on, but on these rare occasions they tried to work out the best solution between themselves.

"Expensive little gits, aren't they."

Harry glanced at Ron's face, still focused on the engagement band. Harry then turned his attention back to the window, replying sincerely,

"Worth the investment, though."

Before Ron could respond, however, something strange happened. A loud cracking noise bounced off the tall buildings and the world entirely confused Harry for a split second. The sounds of the busy London streets was replaced by a horrid ringing. Everything seemed to halt, the world itself froze. And then, a heat engulfed his body. It was a wildly peculiar split second, but before Harry could even question what was happening a force brought with the heat lifted him off his feet and tossed him forcefully. Harry and Ron were thrown violently backwards as the small stone post office next to the jewelry store exploded into roaring green fire. The inferno consumed the street around it and launched debris carelessly. Cars, people, anything in the immediate area of the post office had been lost in the flame with no warning at all, consumed to nothingness. The two aurors laid dazed and shocked on the shrapnel covered pavement. The only thing Harry could hear was his own struggled breathing and all he saw was flame and smoke. He felt hands on his shoulders and found himself being rolled onto his back. He began to jerk backwards before realizing it was Ron grabbing him. His red headed friend was covered in soot and sported a head wound that looked unbearable. Harry could only assume Ron was unaware of the gash due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wondered when his adrenaline would begin to flow and alleviate the pain he was feelings in his side for a bit. He didn't have to wait for long. Out of the burning chaos emerged two shadowed figures.

Immediately Harry forgot his pain and confusion and was on his feet. The two aurors drew their wands and began to fight the hooded figures through the smoke that still hung in the air. Flashes of green and red flew between them. The cloaked men sent curses that Harry and Ron promptly deflected. Finally, one of Harry's spells, a quickly sent "Stupefy!", connected with one of the figures.

The attacker fell to the ground, and all at once the battle halted. The other hooded man stopped firing curses at Ron. As Harry ran over and grabbed the one he had stunned, he sat him up and took his wand, noticing the tattoo on his inner arm.

Ron stayed in place, with the other death eater still in his sights. Harry prepared to being questioning the other one, but before he could, a flash of green light exploded in front of him and he heard a yell. When the chaos waned again, Harry saw the death eater in front of him, face down, dead, the other was nowhere to be seen. Ron made his way over to Harry, and Harry could hear Ron whispering a string of profanities under his breath. In silent agreement, they both began to move towards to rubble of the post office.

They stepped over the threshold of crumbling stone into what was previously a small post office. The scene inside what was left of the structure was harrowing. Bits of paper flew around the still smoky air. Demolished furniture laid around the floor, pieces of draping and wood still burned. Harry and Ron searched for someone, anyone they could save. It was useless; those inside had perished instantly. They were unidentifiable, and it sickened the two friends to walk among them like this.

They approached the back room of the post office. The door, still intact, was heavy stone. Harry and Ron forced it open, and the scene inside was unimaginable.

Stan Shunpike, alive just an hour earlier, hung suspended in the air. His skin burned, his neck broken, a look of perpetual terror etched on his face. His left sleeve was rolled up, exposing the only part of his body still containing real skin. The tattoo on his arm, black as ever, stood out even against his charred flesh. When Harry and Ron finally broke their stare from his body, they became aware of the writing on the wall in glowing letters.

"TRAITORS ARE RARELY FORGOTTEN."

The first words since they entered the building were spoken by Ron the next moment.

"Bloody hell."

Night had fallen by the time the two friends were on their way home. After the events that had transpired at lunch time they found themselves back at the Ministry, however not for training. As the only two living witnesses of the assailants, and the most prominent members of the wizarding community on the scene, their statements had to be taken before they could even begin to examine the case as aurors.

Harry was thankful for the chill of the night when he thought about the days earlier events. He and Ron walked home in tattered and burnt clothing, and the feeling that their exhaustion earlier was only child play compared to how they felt now. Ron sported a large bandage across his forehead, and Harry was finally beginning to feel the full effect of his broken rib.

"I thought this was over, Harry. I thought they captured them all. Am I going mental! Tell me that didn't just happen."

Ron's anger, frustration, and incredulity was reflected in Harry's mind. He had no idea what to do about what happened. He, too, thought this was all over.

"Why were they in London? What did Stan do? I thought he was imperious'd...Ron, none of it makes sense."

They turned over questions that they had been posed with all day. Ron, Harry, and the other aurors in the Ministry spent hours trying to decipher the meaning of the attack and the message itself. They brought in suspected dark magic sympathizers, offering immunity for information, looking for some way to identify who the death eater that had escaped the scene was. At the end of the day, however, they were left with more questions than they had begun with.

The two walked through the door of their flat, and before they could even make it into the living room they heard the woosh of someone arriving via floo network. As they made their way into the house they found Mr. Weasley in the room. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the boys.

"Oh thank god, Molly's been losing her head all day, we're so glad you're okay...what happened out there?"

Ron explained the occurrences in London to his father as Harry sat and listened. He could not organize his thoughts and did not wish to.

Ron's story ended and they sat in a morose silence. Mr. Weasley's usual genial nature was nowhere to be found, and Harry and Ron sat exhausted, both physically and mentally.

"Boys, you need to get out of London. Christmas is coming up, please come spend it at the Burrow with the rest of the family. It's just not safe here, and we have dealt with enough of this for a lifetime."

Ron agreed, and Harry nodded as well.

"Right then. Well, you two are more than welcome to come as soon as you can. Next week, maybe? The sooner you're out of here the better. Call the Ministry and explain, I'm sure they'll understand."

After a few more minutes of discussion, Mr. Weasley excused himself to go back home and tell Molly that they were alive. He walked back to the fireplace and was then gone. For quite some time after he left, Harry and Ron sat on the couch, watching the fire crackle and burn.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you guys for continuing to review and read! It's so much fun to write this story and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it. Please keep reviewing and stick around for more :)**

It was a week before Harry and Ron were able to make the proper arrangements to leave London. The Auror office had been in a state of complete disarray as they attempted to put a face on the attack. Despite the Ministry's best efforts to keep the incident under wraps, it did not take long for the murder of ten postal workers and Stan Shunpike to become common knowledge. As a result, the whole of London seemed to be holding its breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. People were weary to leave their homes, and if they did, not a second passed when they weren't hyper vigilant to their surroundings. The certain fear that the wizarding community hadn't felt for over a year had returned.

Despite this the two had managed to convince the head of the office to allow them to take off for Christmas early. The feat ended up being shockingly easy. It was hard to tell if this was due to the fame Harry had acquired over the past year and a half or simply the lack of interest the aurors in training anyone while the city was panicked. Either way, the two found their way home and began to prepare to leave.

"Are you sure we should be leaving? Can't help but feel like there's something else we could be doing here."

"Harry, they'll be fine. They have loads of aurors already on the case, and we've done our part, I'd say."

Ron's easy dismissal did nothing to calm Harry's concerns. However, before he could press the issue, he heard the door of the flat open and Hermione appeared in the living room. She dropped her bag and ran over to Ron, throwing her arms around him and kissing him. Harry began to look away, but before he knew it Hermione's arms were around him too.

"Oh I'm so glad you two are okay! I was at school when I heard what happened and I had no clue what to do, and when I got you letter Ron, I couldn't think of anything else...this packing is horrible!"

Hermione had gotten sidetracked when she finally allowed herself to glance around the room. The boy's bags were packed haphazardly and clothes fell out onto the floor. Hermione immediately began to reorganize as Harry and Ron made eye contact and shrugged.

"Do you have any idea who might've done it?"

"Hermione, like I said in my letter, we have no clue…"

"Yes yes I know, I'm just desperate for information. What do you think of all this, Harry?"

Harry didn't have an answer to her question. For the past seven days he and everyone in the auror's office spent their time devoted to answering these questions - why? who? will there be more? The thoughts never left Harry's mind.

"I really don't know, Hermione. But I really don't think we should be up and leaving London like this. This isn't the time for a vacation, we need to figure this out, we need to be at the office helping…"

Harry threw himself down on the couch in frustration.

"...I thought this was over."

The room was quiet for a moment. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other before sitting down on the couch next to him. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"I'm sure she misses you just as much as you miss her, Harry."

He hated how she did that, always knowing exactly what he was really thinking about. The truth was that in a twisted way, Harry had welcomed the panic after the street explosion. It served as a distraction from the fiery red hair and flowery scent that had made it impossible to touch Cho.

Harry sighed.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course, Harry.", Hermione responded sincerely.

Harry then directed his attention to Ron.

"Where is she, even? I haven't heard from her since we left and I've been terrified to try and write her."

"I'm not sure, mate. Mum says she's been with George a lot, living at the store I think. She says she's been fine."

"Is she going to hate to see me? I feel like I have no place at the Burrow, really."

Harry was somewhat embarrassed at allowing all these insecurities to come out at once, but he figured if he were to voice them, this was the time.

"Harry, how could you even think that. You know Mum and Dad count you as one of their kids at this point. I mean, how many Weasley sweaters do you own?"

"Harry, everyone needs you to be there! No one will enjoy the holiday unless we're all safe and sound and together."

Ron made a noise of agreement, and Harry knew his two friends were right, and agreed with Hermione as well.

"Alright, well we should be off, then."

The three friends grabbed their things and headed out of the flat. Once they were outside, each grabbed onto another, and before they knew it they were being squeezed and pulled in all directions, surrounded by darkness until suddenly, they were on a snow dusted hill in the middle of the countryside. As they all regained their bearings, Harry felt a sense of calm come over him.

Harry was convinced that the phrase "a sight for sore eyes" was first uttered regarding the Burrow. The leaning building always appeared to be on the brink of ruin, but was relentlessly inviting all the same. A layer of white snow coated the now familiar grounds of the home and greatly emphasized the pillar of smoke rising from the chimney. As they began to approach the house, Ron said what all three were thinking.

"I love this place."

After the short, quarter mile walk to the entrance of the Burrow, they entered the home to the smell of a delicious meal being prepared. It was clear from the comfortable silence that no one was home except Mrs. Weasley, working away in the kitchen. When the three of them entered, however, she relinquished her duty for a moment in favor of giving out hugs and kisses. After she found herself satisfied in this greeting, Mrs. Weasley made them all sit down at the table as she returned to her cooking.

"Oh I'm so happy to see you all! Thank God you're here, away from all that dreadfulness going on in London, just awful...but oh, how has everything been! Tell me everything, each of you!"

Harry had missed Mrs. Weasley's sincere doting. He felt a slight pang of guilt for believing even for a second that he wouldn't be welcome here, but it was quickly overrun by Mrs. Weasley asking to hear about their lives once more.

"Well, Mum, you know what I've been up to, just living with Harry, going to training, nothing special."

"Well, you know, you should try to write home more, Ron! Your brothers always find time to send something home, I feel like I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry Mum. Just been busy."

"I know, dear. How about you, Hermione? You really haven't been around in a bit."

"Well, you know, after the war they had to shut down Hogwarts for a while, to rebuild and such. And I actually, well, I started writing a book about horcruxes. There's really no reliable information on them written, and it was so frustrating never being able to find out anything about them when we needed it. I also think that maybe if I write this book, about our experiences with Voldemort's horcruxes, it might get people informed about them and how to destroy them, and maybe if it's common knowledge on how to stop them, people will stop making horcruxes in general."

Harry and Ron were somewhat taken aback, even more so Ron. They had no clue Hermione had been working on this project, she had never mentioned it to them. Before they could ask her anything, however, she was carrying on, telling Mrs. Weasley about the rest of her recent life.

"So, I got a bit into that, but then they announced the reopening of Hogwarts, and I really did want to go back and finish out seventh year, so I did. I've been there since September, and it's been extraordinary, really. I'm enrolled as a seventh year and I've been taking the courses to go along with that, but I'm honestly quite ahead of all the other students. I've actually almost completed those classes, I'm going to take the exams and be done. They've really opened up the school to me, though, they allow me to do whatever I want, really. It's just like free research time, I can go to any classes I want, and the professors have been amazing. I'm having a great time."

"Oh dear, that's wonderful. We're all very proud of you for going back to school, I'm glad they've been so welcoming to you. And what about you and Ron?"

"Mum!"

"Oh hush, you. Are things going well, are you two happy?"

Ron looked very embarrassed as Hermione glanced over at him, smiled, and then back to his mother.

"Yes, yes I'd say we are."

Mrs. Weasley smiled sweetly at Hermione and turned back around to check on the meal she was making.

"And, Harry? Have you been alright?"

"Oh, yeah, things've been great. How's everyone else been?"

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a knowing smile before answering.

"They're good, Harry."

The four chatted for an hour and a half, enough time for a full lunch of sandwiches and cookies to arrive on the kitchen table. They had chatted more, small talk to fill the time before the other Weasleys began to arrive. Mrs. Weasley had gone to check on Teddy who was taking his afternoon nap when Harry and the others heard the door open. Soon after, Percy and his girlfriend Audrey walked into the kitchen.

Percy and Ron exchanged a brotherly handshake, and Hermione and Harry were greeted and introduced to Audrey, but Percy quickly moved the conversation to more serious matters.

"Harry, Ron, the Auror's office must be mad since what happened last week, everyone's been talking about it at the Ministry, I'm sure you must know."

Just then Mrs. Weasley returned to the kitchen and excitedly greeted Percy and his girlfriend with hugs and kisses. As she began to ask Audrey about her life just as she had done to the others previously, Percy pulled Harry and Ron aside.

"So, what can you tell me. Anything I don't know yet?"

As Ron began to answer his brother, telling him he's sure he knows as much as they do, Harry had an idea.

"Percy, is there any way you could get me a list of everyone who's come forward as being under the imperious curse during the war?"

Percy looked somewhat taken aback by the request, but answered him honestly regardless.

"Well, I can see what I can do and let you boys know."

The day went by quickly after that. Everyone helped clean up from lunch and clean the house in general, preparing for the influx of family members that were to come. The Burrow's charm was endless, and Harry felt a sense of relief at being at the Burrow coupled with his slight anxiety at the thought of seeing Ginny. Teddy woke up from his nap and was toddling around the house, a sight both sweet and saddening.

Around two o'clock Bill and Fleur entered the Burrow. Fleur was now very showing in her pregnancy and she looked more beautiful than ever. Mrs. Weasley greeted them and talked with them excitedly about baby plans. Before long Charlie arrived as well, and as the house filled more and more, Harry found himself constantly drawn to the window looking for new Weasleys. He was beyond pleased to see everyone, but he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed every time he saw one of the male Weasleys pop up into the yard.

It was after six o'clock when Mr. Weasley finally arrived home, and he was ecstatic to see so many of his children at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley announced that they would be having dinner soon, as Ginny and George had told her earlier that they would not be at the Burrow until later on. Harry's stomach did a backflip at the name, but he tried to keep his demeanor calm.

The crowd ate dinner nearly an hour later. It was a happy affair, nearly the entire family gathered to eat and talk about everything that had been happening since they saw each other last. Around eight o'clock, after everyone had finished eating but remained at the table to talk, the door of the Burrow opened and George entered the room where they were all eating.

"If there's no dinner left I'm seceding from this family, I mean it."

George's arrival was met with overjoyed response. All the brothers exchanged playful greetings and teased each other as if they were still in their Hogwarts years.

It was now dark outside and the Burrow was filled with the warm light of candles. The room in which everyone was gathered was cozy, and the smell of dessert was coming from the oven.

"George, how's the store been? Doing well?"

"Oh yeah, it's been great. Business has been excellent, I guess kids never get tired of messing with each other…"

George continued to answer questions from all the people in the room. Harry began to get impatient, however. He knew Ginny had been with him at the store for quite some time, so where was she? Harry's anticipation at seeing her was peaking and he could no longer hold back his curiosity.

"Hey George, how's Ginny been?"

He did not hear Harry's question at first. Harry awaited a response, but after several moments passed and George did less than even look in Harry's direction, he asked once again, this time louder. The conversation in the room had died down just as he asked, however, and his question was announced at a rather embarrassing volume.

"George, where's Ginny?"

This time George definitely heard him, as did everyone else in the room. They all moved their eyes to look at Harry. He smiled and looked down, realizing how awkward it had been for him to pose this question.

"I was...uh...just wondering because….she was, er, supposed to come with you. Right?"

George began to laugh slightly.

"Yeah, she'll be here soon."

He then added as an afterthought,

"And I must say, Harry, you are a brave soul coming here. Very scary person, my baby sister."

At this statement the room burst into laughter. Harry laughed too, a somewhat forced, nervous laugh. Mrs. Weasley finally broke everything up, her maternal instinct for Harry coming in.

"Oh, George, stop it. Harry's just terrified to see her again. Go on, Harry, tell them all."

The room was now silent, all eyes on Harry.

"I'm, er, a bit nervous. Yeah."

Bill was the first to respond to Harry's admittance.

"I don't understand, Harry. What even happened?"

"I don't know, really. I just messed up. I don't know what to do...what do I do?"

Harry felt himself filling with embarrassment. Here he was, in the Weasley's home, having just ate a Weasley dinner, asking advice on how to fix his relationship with a Weasley. He felt like a complete arse.

The room was quiet after Harry had sheepishly asked for advice. The first to offer something was Charlie,

"Well, she'll definitely attack you, so I'd prepare for that."

"Oh, please, she'll just poison him."

"You may think that, Bill, but have we ruled out her setting him on fire? Because I think that is a real possibility."

George's last comment sent the room into another fit of laughter, but Mr. Weasley settled everyone down once more,

"Boys, boys, enough."

He offered a kind smile to Harry before continuing.

"Harry, just talk to her."

More than an hour had passed along with the dessert course before people began to head to bed. As their numbers dwindled Harry's nervousness grew. He now no longer had the comfort of the group to rely on when Ginny arrived, he would be forced to have his first encounter with her in months in solidarity, or near to it at least.

It was nearing midnight and only Harry and George remained downstairs. They sat and talked, going into more realistic detail of their lives than they had in front of the other family members. How they had really been feeling after the war, the feelings of guilt and sadness they had been forced to overcome.

"I was in a bad state after the funeral. I didn't even feel like I was alive, really. Nothing felt real. I would go to tell him a joke or something and he just...wasn't there. Ginny helped a lot. Came with me to the shop after everything died down, she's been there with me since. It was hard for a while but...I'm alright now. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him, but I'm alright. Me and Angelina have been going out quite a bit, remember her? She's been great too, but Ginny...she saved me, she did."

Just then, Harry believed he heard a faint popping noise outside. His stomach churned and before he could convince himself he was creating noises in his mind, the big wooden door swung open.

Harry had spent the past year and a half trying to forget many things. He tried to forget some of the horrible things he saw during the war, the people who died, the lives and places and fond memories he saw destroyed. Through all the things he tried to forget, however, there was one he was never able to let go, no matter how much it seemed he should have. The memory of her was the one thing he had never been able to forget. Harry had tried to figure out what about her had made him feel this way, and he came to the conclusion as he watched Ginny walk through the doorway. It was the red, he thought, and how it refused to be extinguished by the frost covered scarf she wore. He had always loved that about her, how her hair made it so she would always clash with her surroundings, but clash in such a loud and wonderful way. A fiery red against the green grass and blue water of summertime or the white out of the winter months. She pushed the hair from her face and closed the door as the moment burned itself into Harry's brain. He could never forget her. Every second that he had never deserved with her and every color that seemed dull compared to that horrible fiery red was stuck with him forever.

Her long red hair had been tucked into her jacket beneath her scarf, but was exposed when she removed the latter article of clothing. Her fair skin was flush in the cheeks from the cold wind outside, only making her look more beautiful. When she removed her jacket and hat and released her hair all together, Harry was sure he smelled her flowery perfume waft towards him. She looked at them with gorgeous brown eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiled. She began to walk into the living room where they were sitting with no hesitation. It was then she looked up and finally saw him.

"Well hello there Harry"

Harry felt as though he was burning and freezing up all at the same time. He could barely think at the sight of her, let alone speak. He thought he heard George say something to her, but it was all white noise to him. After ten seconds too long he finally choked something out. Swallowing hard he said,

"Ginny."

She stared at him hard, unwavering, wearing a smile. As Harry looked back at her he felt himself crumbling with nervousness and embarrassment, excitement and confusion. He heard George let out a small noise of laughter.

"You just exude confidence, my friend."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out, last week was Thanksgiving and I was super busy, but thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

The silence following George's comment had been horrific. The seconds passed like hours, and time only resumed its normal pace when Ginny left the room. She had smiled at Harry and laughed softly, then turned and made her way upstairs. George and Harry could hear her light footsteps climbing the steps and then disappear.

"Well, mate, that couldn't have gone better."

Harry gave George a glaring look as he got up from the couch. His anger, however, was less directed at the Weasley sitting next to him, but more at himself. He felt a deep, pulling feeling of regret at not saying something else to her, not being more collected or cool. He realized that he would do nothing but continue to feel this way if he stayed awake, so he decided to make his way to bed. He announced this to George and began to head up the staircase.

With every step he climbed, Harry's mind raced with things he could have said to her. He had one chance to make an impression after all this time apart, and he had fumbled it beyond belief. By the time Harry arrived at the room he was sharing with Ron, he felt sick with regret and burning with annoyance at himself. He flopped onto his cot and forced himself to sleep.

Harry had only been asleep for a short time when he was abruptly awoken by someone shaking his foot. He reached for his wand out of habit, but his fear subsided when through his blurry vision he made out a pale face and long red hair staring at him from the foot of the bed.

Harry sat up slowly and ran his hands through his hair as he grabbed his glasses off the table next to him. Once he had them on he was able to clearly see Ginny, bundled in a jacket and scarf, looking at him seriously.

"Ginny, what're you…"

"Come on, let's go."

Harry tried to ask more questions but was ignored completely by her. Ginny had stood up from the bed and began to walk out of the room as Harry tried to quietly put on his shoes and more layers. He quickly made his way out of the room, and he could see Ginny was already making her way into the living room from the bottom of the staircase.

Harry only caught up with her when they were both outside of the house. He ran up beside her, still fastening the buttons on his coat, while she made her way through the thick snow covering the grounds of the Burrow. It was well into the night, the sky a deep black and dotted with stars. They walked in silence next to each other, the only sounds their feet crunching through the snow drifts.

He wondered why Ginny had woken him up to bring him out here. She had seemed fine when she entered the house earlier, not angry or even annoyed at him. But now it was two in the morning and they were walking outside in the freezing weather, and Harry was completely confused.

The longer they walked, the more confused Harry became. Where was she taking him? What was the purpose? Why couldn't this wait until the morning? He found himself wishing he had put on a few more layers before he had ran out of the house, had he known how long he would be outside in the bitter cold.

The trees around them were frosted, icicles hanging off of them like tiny spears. The ice glittered in the light from the moon and stars, and Harry was once again struck by the true beauty of the Burrow, so far away from the metropolitan area he had been living in. He was struck too by the beauty of Ginny, walking a few feet in front of him, hair tucked into her scarf but slightly poking out behind it. Her arms were crossed in front of her and even through the deep snow drifts she walked with grace, every step even, her path deliberate. He could do nothing but follow her and wonder.

Their walk finally came to a halt when they were standing in front of the pond in the backyard of the Burrow. It had frozen over for winter, covered in a layer of ice at least a foot thick and reflecting the fullness of the moon above them. Ginny stared straight ahead, her eyes fixated on the frozen pond, but also on nothing at all. Her gaze seemed meaningless, the frozen water her point of focus only because of it's presence in front of her. Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be thinking, but he could not be sure of what. After a few moments silence he figured he should at least try and talk to her, to make up for his fumbled interaction earlier.

"So, Ginny...uh...listen…"

"Harry, stop."

Ginny cut him off before he could even attempt to say anything or make small conversation. He looked over at her fully now, having no clue what to expect in the coming moments.

"Harry... Before you say anything... I just want you to understand what's going on"

Ginny turned and shot him one of her piercing glares. Her expression was stoic and Harry felt a strange mixture of fear and comfort due to it. The moments before she began to speak again seemed to drag into an eternity.

"It's been... so long. I haven't seen you in a year."

She shook her head as she said this and Harry was given momentary relief from her gaze.

"And it was a horrible year, Harry. It was a year of...of trying to put George back together...of dealing with my family after Fred."

The gaze returned and Harry felt it hit him harder than before.

"But...what was really terrible this year was...thinking about you. Every time George was really awful or mum was in tears I just thought of you. It was...a comfort. And I found myself wondering why. Why is it comforting to think of you? And after a year of it...of building you up in my mind...I just need to know what it is. You need to understand that you have to say something really great to me right now. Harry it's so horrible and unrealistic of me to tell you that and I'm sorry but you just need to assure me right now that I didn't think of you all those times for nothing. Please show me I didn't miss you for nothing."

She broke her gaze again. This time to stare at her feet and cross her arms.

"God... I missed you so fucking much, Harry."

Her voice cracked. The threat of tears appeared in her eyes but she looked back at the pond before she lost it. She wouldn't cry because of him and certainly not for him to see. He always liked that.

"I'm sorry," she said, "this is insane. It's like how you always think of something you want to say to someone but when you actually get to say it it's nothing like you imagined."

He had no clue what to do next. Harry was taken aback completely by what Ginny had just said to him, and he felt an overwhelming sense of pressure to prove to her something he didn't feel he understood in the slightest. Why couldn't he just once know what to say in these situations?

For a brief moment, jumping into the icy lake and freezing to death was seriously considered.

"I...uh..."

Something finally came to Harry's mind after a few moments of stammering.

"Well, er, Ginny, could we go inside? I think I need to show you something."

"You know what I've embarrassed myself enough for one night. Going inside sounds like a grand idea."

Harry took a few steps towards the Burrow and then looked behind him to ensure she was following him. They walked side by side around the yard and in through the door of the house, back into the comfortable warmth of the living room.

Ginny followed his lead as Harry made his way to the dining table they had eaten at earlier that night. They approached the table and Ginny looked at Harry with a questioning expression, waiting for what he had to offer her.

"So, you could just sit down, I'll be right back."

Harry left the room and made his way to the staircase, and with every step he questioned the move he was about to make. However, he had no other ideas, so he was left with this one option.

He entered the room containing his things and grabbed a somewhat shabby backpack off the floor near his cot. As he picked it up he felt the contents shift around and he once again began to consider what he was about to do. After several seconds consideration he made up his mind, deciding it was his turn for embarrassment.

Harry left his bedroom and continued downstairs, returning to the kitchen table where Ginny, thankfully, remained seated. Her eyes followed him as he entered the room until he placed his backpack on the table and sat down across from her.

"So, uh, I tried writing you. A couple times. But I never, er...sent any, really. So you can read them now. If you'd like."

Harry proceeded to grab his bag and dump the contents on the table - letter upon letter fell out onto the wooden table, some in enveloped addressed to Ginny, ready to be sent, others just on scraps of paper and containing only a few words or sentences, proof of the spontaneity of some of the thoughts he had written for her.

Ginny looked at Harry, then down at the piles of paper on the table in front of her. She began to move the letters towards her, one by one opening and reading them. Harry maintained his seat across the table from her, nervously watching as her eyes scanned each of his letters and then put them in a pile on one side of her, then moving to read the next one within her reach.

Finding someone you can unabashedly tell anything without even the potential of judgement or rejection is a phenomenon that very few people experience and even fewer treasure. In truth Harry barely recalled what he wrote in those letters. His attempts at writing Ginny had mainly arisen whenever he had a thought that he couldn't bring himself to share with anyone but her.

After nearly half an hour, Ginny had been able to make her way through all the writings in front of her. She had stayed relatively quiet throughout the readings, and all Harry could do to gauge her feelings was look at her face while she read, perhaps catching a glimpse of a smile or a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

After the last letter had been placed in the growing pile of paper on Ginny's left side, she lifted her eyes to Harry's and finally spoke.

"This...was a good move, Mr. Potter." She cracked a bit of a smile at him.

"I'm sure by now Hermione has explained to you that you should have at least spoken to me once before you left."

"Oh, yeah. Loads of times."

Ginny sighed, looking down at the pile of letters next to her. She rested a pale hand lightly on top of them before looking back up at Harry.

"I'm keeping these." She let out a yawn as her eyes shut lightly before she finished her thought. "And I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Harry."

At this, she gathered the letters in her arms and stood from the table, gracefully leaving the room. Harry heard her footsteps disappear up the stairs and then the light creak of a door closing.

Harry slumped back in his chair, a wave of relief pouring over him. He ran his hands through his hair and smiled a bit to himself before standing up from his seat and making his way to his own bedroom, baffled at the way his life had turned in the course of an hour in the middle of the night. For the second time, he flopped onto his cot, removed his glasses, and closed his eyes, but this time with a sense of content he had not felt in over a year.

Several hours later Harry awoke to sunlight coming through the window and the sound of pots and pans banging downstairs. He searched for his glasses on his bedside table and got dressed before sleepily stumbling down to the kitchen. He had gotten only a few hours of real sleep, and his tired mind had him truly wondering if his interactions with Ginny had been a dream. He walked into the kitchen where several members of the Weasley family were already gathered.

"Good morning, Harry, did you sleep well?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him genuinely as she worked on breakfast in the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table with Bill, reading a paper and sipping on coffee. On the floor Teddy was playing, entertaining himself with toys and whatever else he could find around him. Every time Harry saw him he felt a pull of sadness inside of him, but he also knew that if Teddy wasn't able to be with his parents, the Weasley house was the best place for him. Mrs. Weasley must have noticed Harry's attention on Teddy, as she spoke regarding him next.

"Isn't he getting so big? Looks more like his father every day if you ask me…"

She trailed off while looking at Teddy lovingly. Hermione then entered the kitchen, followed a few moments later by Ron, who looked much less willing to be awake this early than his girlfriend. He yawned as he walked in the room, saying good morning to everyone at the same time. Mrs. Weasley offered them all coffee, and Harry took a seat a few spaces down from Bill while Hermione and Ron sat across from him.

Before long the entirety of the group residing at the Burrow was down in the kitchen, all pining for some of what Mrs. Weasley was making. Several more tables and chairs were conjured, but Mrs. Weasley stopped them from conjuring too many.

"George and Ginny left for the store a bit ago, so we won't need as many last night, dears."

Harry felt a dropping in his chest of disappointment. He had been excitingly nervous to see Ginny after last night, to try and figure out where they stood with each other. He now would have to wait until later to see her, and the chance of getting her alone would be even slimmer during dinner time. Everyone sat down and enjoyed the meal Mrs. Weasley had prepared, containing every type of breakfast food they could ask for, mainly from wizarding recipes but a few muggle treats as well, a small offering Mrs. Weasley tried to make once the presence of Harry and Hermione had become more regular during their Hogwarts days.

After more than an hour had passed and all the food prepared had been eaten, the room began to clear. Mrs. Weasley began to gather dishes with the help of her husband and the other girls in the house.

"Now boys, don't you think this means you never have to help clean up, there's just so many of you, my kitchen would be in pieces if I let you all in here at once."

The men in the house gladly took this out as an opportunity to go into the living room to relax. However, they only were able to enjoy a few minutes of this peace before Mrs. Weasley peaked her head out from the kitchen.

"But boys, if there is not a Christmas tree in this house by lunch time, you'll be making your own meals for the rest of holiday."

Harry was not sure what system they had used to determine which of them would be taking the trek to find a tree for the Burrow, but fifteen minutes later he found himself stomping through snowdrifts and carrying an ax alongside Ron and Bill.

The sky was a bright whitish-blue, and the air was only a few degrees warmer than it had been when Harry had been outside a few hours earlier. The Burrow grounds looked just a beautiful however, charmingly covered in snow and ice. He, Bill and Ron began the small journey to a patch of evergreens just off the Burrow's land, hoping that the perfect Christmas tree would be there.

They began to talk between them, asking about each other's lives and the going-ons of the past year. Harry realized that the only time he had talked to Bill so far had been during group discussions.

"So, Bill, you and Fleur are alright?"

"Oh yeah, she's only got a few months left, we're waiting to find out if it's a girl or boy, though, she wants to be surprised."

"That's really great, Teddy will have someone to play with."

Bill smiled at Harry's remark, then asked him and Ron more about what had happened in London the previous week. Ron and Harry had become extremely well versed in telling the story, including all the important details smoothly and efficiently. Bill agreed the reappearance of Death Eaters could mean nothing good, and Harry realized he had not been worrying or thinking about the London threat all week.

The three of them discussed the other happenings at their jobs; Gringotts had been a much more profitable place to work after the war when people started living life as normal was sure they had begun to bore with with the talk of auror training, but luckily they arrived at the pack of evergreen trees and their conversation shifted to finding the perfect tree.

After several minutes of searching in all directions, Harry and Bill heard Ron yell from somewhere deep in the thick of trees. When they found him he was standing next to a gorgeously tall evergreen, nine feet tall and healthily round with needles. They all agreed this tree was perfect, and spent the next few minutes taking turns chopping it down. When it was finally fallen, they tied it up and enchanted it to float above the ground and follow their trail back to the Burrow.

The trio arrived back at the house just as the sun was beginning to near the horizon. The day had passed incredibly quickly, and Harry felt his eyes already heavy with sleep. The tree followed them inside the front door, and after Ron and Harry set it up properly in the living room, Bill brought out Mrs. Weasley, covering her eyes, allowing her to look only when she was in front of it.

"Oh, boys, it's just perfect!"

She kissed them all on the cheeks and went to grab Mr. Weasley to show him the tree. Soon everyone was gathered, marveling at the beautiful, tall, green tree in the room. Harry could not help but notice that Ginny and George had returned from the store as he caught a glimpse of her long red hair across the room.

"Alright, mum, now what's for dinner?"

George's comment made the room come alive with agreement, a sure sign of the hunger they had all begun to develop.

"Well, your father and I agreed that maybe we should go out tonight, I'll have plenty of time to cook for you all later. Now, go get dressed, something a bit nicer than usual, I'd say. Go on! No objections."

Mrs. Weasley added on these final comments due to the small piping up of comments about dinner being so far out of the way, their group being too large, the price too high, on and on. It was at this point Harry remembered that the Weasleys did have more spending money now - with all their children out of the house and Mr. Weasley's post-war promotion, they could afford to treat themselves every so often. Nevertheless, the entire group made their way to their rooms of residence, emerging some time later in dresses, coats and nicer pants than their general attire would call for.

Mr. Weasley was the first to approach the fire, grabbing a small handful of ash and yelling out the location of a wizarding store on an off street near the restaurant in London they were to attend. One by one, each member of the group followed, Harry being one of the last. The sooty journey upon the Floo Network was never his favorite, but he had surely improved at using it since he first did so many years ago.

Before long, the group of Weasleys and guests alike were in a cozy looking restaurant, featuring carefully carved stone walls and candelabras all around. The warm and inviting nature of the place was not to say it wasn't nice, however; the food was gourmet and their attire had been completely appropriate. A large dining table was set up for their group in a room off of the main dining area. Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a fireplace burned at one end of the room, allowing them to feel as though their gathering were intimate and comfortable.

Harry was not sure where to go at the table. There was an empty seat near Ginny, but he was still somewhat confused about their standing, even after the events of the previous night. He did not want to push her if she was still making decisions, but he also did not want to risk her feeling as though he were avoiding her. He made a decisive move to sit at a seat across the table and one seat down from her, close enough to make eye contact and conversation, but not so much that he was breathing down her neck.

After everyone in their group had taken a seat, Harry noticed there were two empty seats left at the table. He glanced at Ron curiously, before hearing Mr. Weasley speak from the head of the table.

"We hope it's okay with you all, we invited some other guests…"

At this introduction, Neville and Luna entered the room. Neville had thinned out incredibly since their early Hogwarts days, now somewhat tall and with a scruffy beard, one that suited him and made him look much more adultlike. In complete contrast, Luna looked as she always had: her long, blonde hair fell down her shoulders and far down her back, small waves forming throughout it. She wore a dress with brightly colored leggings beneath, her eyes large and inquisitive, but nonetheless happy. Both their faces lit up as they walked in the room, smiling at the group.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all beamed with excitement at them. They were somewhat trapped in their seats at the table, but still managed to say hello and express their happiness at their arrival at dinner. The rest of the group greeted them as well, as welcoming as ever.

After the long and somewhat complicated process of ordering their meals, they all enjoyed a dinner of laughter and storytelling. They ate for nearly an hour, then music was heard from the main room of the restaurant. Upon investigation, it was found that a band was playing, and there was a cleared area for dancing in the large room. While some of the group made their way to the dancing area, Harry, Neville, and Ron were able to find their way to the bar. The three exchanged proper hello's, sat down at the bar and ordered three firewhiskies.

"Ron, won't Hermione want you out there to dance?"

"Nah, mate, she's fine. She's got Ginny and Luna and the rest of them, she can have her fun. I'll go out in a bit."

"So you and her are still going, yeah?"

It took Harry a moment to stop wondering why Neville was asking this question. He remembered that he and Ron hadn't stayed in as close of touch with Neville as he had liked, and slight pang of guilt hit him. Ron answered him affirmatively, smiling and taking a sip of his drink. Neville didn't seem phased, however, just genuinely curious and interested in what had been going on in their lives.

"Were you two really there, in London? Some rumors came back to Hogwarts, but you know, kids talk."

"Oh yeah, was bloody ridiculous. The Ministry was a mess… I've gotta say, I'm a bit jealous you of your set up at Hogwarts, Nev. They set you up right after they reopened, yeah?"

"Yeah, it's pretty nice… the kids are really great to me, I guess they've heard the stories from the battle and such, pretty odd. It's been going well, though. Never thought I'd end up as a teacher, if I'm being honest."

The three drank in silence for a moment. Ron finished the rest of his drink, then stood up from his bar stool.

"Well, I believe I have some drunken dancing to do. See you boys in a bit."

Ron walked away towards the dance floor. Neville followed his path with his eyes, then turned back to the bar and requested a shot of something a bit stronger than what they were drinking before. He took the shot in one fast gulp, then stood himself.

"I, uh... me too."

Neville turned to walk towards the group dancing, but before he could begin his walk Harry caught him, smiling in a slightly teasing way.

"Dancing, Neville?"

He shrugged somewhat awkwardly, not able to answer Harry with a real response. He made the walk over to the group of dancers, and Harry watched as he nervously approached Luna. She brought him into the dancing effortlessly and without thinking, and Harry smiled to himself.

Harry turned back towards the bar, ordered another drink, and sat in solitude for several moments. He enjoyed the silence, however. He hadn't had much alone time since he had arrived at the Burrow, and as much as he had enjoyed the company of so many people he cared about, a moment to himself was appreciated.

This moment was disrupted, however, when he heard the light click of heels on the hardwood floor of the bar. He turned around to see Ginny walking up behind him. She stood in front of him, in a beautiful dark green dress falling right above her knees. She looked at Harry with a small smile on her face, the left corner of her mouth curving upwards. Her fair hung across her shoulders as it always did, but against the color of her dress she looked like if Christmas were a person – warm, inviting, and full of surprises.

"So, how long have you been sitting here waiting to buy me a drink?"

She took the bar stool next to him that had previously belonged to Neville. Harry was overwhelmed by her presence again, just as he had been the night before. They had not spoken all night, but he had been watching her subtly throughout dinner. The way she smiled and laughed with her brothers and other family members and friends was infecting, and watching her in moments of herself were even more enchanting – fixing her napkin on her lap, looking around the room to decide where she would go next.

Harry realized he had not yet replied to her statement, and he looked at the bartender and ordered her one of what he had. She smiled at the bartender and Harry in turn when her drink was placed in front of her.

"So, quite an event, hm?"

They discussed the dinner and the arrival of Neville and Luna, the conversation far from serious. They joked and laughed, and Harry was amazed at how easily Ginny could go from angry to charming. To a casual observer, there would be no indication that just a night previously Harry was nervous that he was going to be hexed or worse by the girl sitting next to him.

The night moved on easily, everyone enjoying each other presence, whether at the bar, a table, or in the dancing area. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley danced the entire night, acting as though they were young again, dancing for the first time. Charlie could be seen talking to other girls in the restaurant, and by their shy smiles and laughs, it could be told that he was charming them successfully. Even Percy and Audrey, ever serious and polite to each other, could be seen letting loose and enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant, dancing and singing along.

As the previous song being played by the band faded out, everyone waited anxiously for the next selection, not yet ready for the fun to be over. The band then went into their next song, a lively tune which, to no one's complaint, called for more dancing.

Harry recognized the song as a muggle tune, something that he had heard on the old radio that Uncle Vernon would play sometimes in the living room of their old house.

"_Well, she was just 17,__  
><em>_You know what I mean,__  
><em>_And the way she looked was way beyond compare.__  
><em>_So how could I dance with another__  
><em>_And I saw her standing there."_

Ginny turned to Harry with a large smile on her face, and leaned her head backwards in obvious excitement.

"Oh, Harry. This is a very unfortunate thing for you, because now you have to dance with me."

Harry groaned in disapproval, but secretly his heart had flipped over with happiness.

"Ginny, no, you know I don't like to..."

Harry's objections had no influence on her, however. She had already grabbed his hand and was pulling him off his bar stool, moving towards the music.

"Oh I know very much, but you're going to!"

"_Whooh, we danced through the night,  
>And we held each other tight,<br>And before too long I fell in love with her.  
>Now I'll never dance with another<br>Since I saw her standing there"_

Before long, they were in in with the rest of the group dancing their hearts out. There was truth to Harry's statement – he had never been one for dancing, but here, in this group, watching Ginny dance completely carefree, he decided to play along. And, in truth, he found himself having fun.

After a while, the music died out completely, and the band began to pack up to leave. Their group gathered themselves and their coats and ventured back out into the London cold. Even on their way out of the restaurant the Weasley's and others were still laughing and smiling, enjoying each other's company through the bitter winds that now brushed their faces.

Harry and Ginny walked out of the restaurant together, behind the rest of the group, both still out of breath. They continued trying to catch up to the group, who were talking towards a the store they had used to arrived in London through the Floo.

"Harry, look."

Ginny pointed subtly at two figured near the brick wall of the restaurant they had just exited. Harry quickly identified the figured as Neville and Luna, and he kept his eyes on them for the next few moments to try and decipher what was happening.

He saw Luna leaning her back against the brick wall, looking at Neville with a dreamy look in her eyes, smiling and nodding along to whatever he was saying. Neville's face looked a bit nervous, but he was nonetheless enjoying himself, talking about whatever seemed to come to mind.

Harry and Ginny shared a laugh over this interaction, and then made their way to catch up with the rest of their group. Soon they arrived at the store, and after another quick trip through the fireplace, they arrived back at the Burrow.

Harry looked at the small clock located on the wall in the living room of their home. They had been at dinner nearly three hours, and the landscape outside the window was pitch dark, with small white specks floating downwards every once in a while, adding to the blanket on the shrubs and ground.

The majority of the members of the house excused themselves to bed, drifting upstairs in pairs usually. Harry found his way to his room eventually, changing into his pajamas and retiring to his cot. His eyelids weighed heavily, and he laid still, waiting for sleep to overcome him. However, it did not come, and after what felt like an hour, Harry decided perhaps he needed a drink before bed. He left his cot and walked down the stairs, quietly as he could, towards the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and ran himself some water, downing it all and pouring himself another.

He intended to take this glass to his room with him, feeling as though he was now really ready for rest. However, as he left the small Burrow kitchen, he noticed someone left in the living room, sitting in front of the fire. Upon further looking he realized it was Mrs. Weasley, curled with a blanket on the chair Mr. Weasley would sit in on lazy mornings. He walked further into the living room, stopping only a few feet from her.

"Mrs. Weasley, you're up late."

She turned towards Harry, successfully veiling her surprise at him appearing next to her all of a sudden.

"Ih, hello, Harry. Yes, I suppose I am."

"Why's that?"

Harry hoped she wouldn't see his questioning as prying, he had just never seen Mrs. Weasley up this much later than her children, unless it were Christmas or another event.

"Well, I keep having these dreams, about Azkaban, actually. It's quite odd because I've never been there, obviously... I don't know. Just thinking, I suppose."

After a few seconds, she added as an afterthought,

"Why are you still awake, dear?"

"Just, er, thirsty."

He and Mrs. Weasley both glanced down at the glass of water in his hand. She looked back up at his face and smiled in a sweetly maternal way.

"Well, don't stay up much later. I'm off to bed."

He watched as she stood up from the chair by the first, carefully placing her blanket back on the chair. She smiled at Harry again as she walked by, up the stairs, and into her room with Mr. Weasley. Harry took her spot in the chair by the fire, holding his glass and looking at the fire, a sense of content and calm washing over him.


End file.
